


First Christmas

by QueenRiley



Category: Power Rangers
Genre: Family, Holiday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenRiley/pseuds/QueenRiley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas was not his holiday. Never had been. Never would be. If only he had remembered it most certainly belonged to Rocky...</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiirotsubasa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiirotsubasa/gifts).



Adam strolled down the aisles of the bustling grocery. The store was a mess, shelves empty as people bought out the stock preparing for Thanksgiving dinner. Christmas music blared tinny and obnoxious over the store speakers. The stockers had been called in early to hang decorations. 

Adam may have grown up in Stone Canyon and, his later years here in Angel Grove, but his parents hadn't and it was never more obvious than during the long, tiresome “holiday” season. Christmas was not his holiday. Never had been. Never would be. His family was Korean. They may have adopted a great many American traditions, but his parents, and as an adult he himself, had long refused Christmas. 

It had bothered him some when he was small. It was hard to resist the allure of a fully decorated Christmas tree, all the pretty lights, and he dreaded nothing more than having to explain why Santa didn't come by his house. Kids looked at him differently after that. Every year, he was the one left out. He supposed if he’d have grown up in Angel Grove it would have been different. At least he’d have had Raymond to sit out the “holiday” party with. He didn't recall any Jewish kids in Stone Canyon and the only Jehovah’s Witness he knew of left public school in the third grade. So that left Adam. All by himself. And yeah, it bothered him then. But the older he got, the less he cared. The more he appreciated his heritage, the more he embraced his culture, the less Christmas mattered to him. Too bad the rest of the country didn't feel the same. 

“Merry Christmas!” the cashier wished him as he paid for his can of yams. He nodded at her and left the store, already frustrated, and began the short walk home. 

Christmas had become an annoyance more than anything, now that he was an adult. He was inundated with it, in every store, on every corner, on every radio and television station. Decorations sprang up all over his neighborhood, all over his work, even downtown. It was barely Thanksgiving, but Christmas was already everywhere. It was unavoidable.

He sighed as he unlocked the door to his apartment. At least he had this safe haven, this space free of the endless barrage of Christmas, the nonstop reminder that no matter what, he would always be ‘other’.

“Look what I picked up at the store today!” Rocky shouted, flipping a light switch as Adam shuffled into the living room. The fireplace was framed in evergreen branches, lit with white lights, and had an obnoxious red bow about every six inches. 

Christmas was not his holiday. But he forgot it was Rocky’s favourite time of year.

 

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It was the first weekend in December. They didn't have much money. They didn't have much time. But they were shopping for a Christmas tree. Adam hadn't wanted one, but Rocky would not be deterred. He had to have a real, live Christmas tree. He’d never had a Christmas without one and simply visiting his mother’s just wasn't going to be good enough. Adam had never been able to refuse Rocky.

“This one?” Rocky asked. Adam looked up. And up. And up some more.

“Too tall,” he replied. The apartment was small. They barely had room for themselves nevermind a nine foot tree.

They walked some more.

“What about this one?” Rocky asked, shaking out some branches and a shorter tree.

“Too fat.” Adam wasn't even sure where they were going to put this monstrosity.

Half an hour passed and they were running out of trees on the tree lot. Adam rubbed his eyes. He was tired. He was hot. He’d never picked out a tree before. Christmas wasn't his holiday. This was ridiculous.

“What about that one?” Adam asked, pointing. It was small, maybe four feet tall. It was skinny. It was maybe a little pathetic as far as trees go, at least compared to what else was on the lot, but it was only twenty dollars and came with a free stand and would actually fit in their living room.

“It’s perfect,” Rocky sighed, eyes going glassy, with that little grin of deep happiness that made Adam’s heart melt. Adam would say yes to anything for that smile.

 

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It was two weeks until Christmas and Adam really wished the whole thing would hurry up and be over. He had successfully avoided a “holiday” party, with trees and bright red and green decorations, at the office. It had been difficult, but as soon as he saw all those crock pots and horrid sweaters, he knew he had to go. He’d never fake vomited so well in his life.

He had not managed to escape the themed tins of cookies, fudge, and brownies from the parents of his students at the dojo, however. He had been able to ignore most of the decorations and Christmas talk from the owners, but the tins had started coming with elaborate cards. Once the first tin showed up, it was like the floodgates had opened. He was always appreciative, outwardly grateful, but he really had no idea what he would do with three dozen cookies and ten pounds of fudge. Nevermind thirty Christmas tins in various sizes.

For all he brought home, Rocky brought twice as much. The ladies at the Department of Social Services office really seemed to like Rocky. Adam couldn't blame them. He was young, fit, and incredibly handsome. Of course, he was a bit biased, but he was also pretty sure Rocky wasn't out at his office. So as far as they knew, he was also single. Which apparently meant fruitcakes, ornaments, and whole pans of homemade lasagna. He wasn't quite sure how lasagna fit into Christmas, but Rocky swore Francesca was a lovely elderly lady and Adam wasn't one to turn down lasagna.

He still wasn't sure what to do with the ever growing stack of tins. He really wasn't cut out for this whole Christmas thing.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

One week before Christmas and boxes mysteriously began appearing beneath their tiny little tree. Rocky had done all the decorating. Rocky had done most of the purchasing. Rocky, apparently, had done the gifts as well. The boxes were shiny and bright and covered in gaudy ribbons and bows. Most were labeled with the names of Rocky’s varied and sundry siblings, their spouses, and even the tiny children some of them had managed to produce. With each passing day there was a new box, and Adam was startled to realize a fair number had his own name on them. 

“What are those?” he asked, stopping mid crunch on his bowl of cereal. He had just walked into the living room to find Rocky attempting to hammer something into the stone of the fireplace.

“Stockings!” Rocky beamed. Adam frowned.

“What for?” There were two of them. Red and gold and green and silver. Rocky had gone so far as to have their names embroidered on the fluffy white faux fur at the top.

“For Santa to fill, duh.” Rocky rolled his eyes. Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn't done any shopping. Clearly he needed to. Christmas really wasn't his holiday.

 

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Christmas Eve dinner had Adam counting down the minutes until the whole mess of a holiday would be over. He was really starting to loathe the whole thing. 

They were crammed into Rocky’s mother’s living room. This was the tradition. This was the Big Deal. Everybody was there. Every single DeSantos. Rocky, his mother, all of his siblings, only two of which still lived at home, six of Rocky’s nieces and nephews all under the age of five, and the four current spouses. Adam included. Mrs. DeSantos always made a point to include Adam. He had been a part of the family for far longer than he’d been dating her son, and she’d just folded him in permanently when Rocky came out. So while he’d been to Christmas Eve Dinner before, this was his first time as “spouse”. It was still more than a little overwhelming.

It was loud. It was messy. It was everything Adam hated. But this was family. This was Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas presents and the most loving people he’d ever met and Adam wouldn't trade it for the world.

There were tamales, turkey, ponche navideno, bacalao a la vizcaina, and Adam’s favourite, the ensalada de Noche Buena. It was full of fresh fruit and Adam tried to focus on it instead of all the hustle and bustle of the family.

“You are well, Adam?” Mrs. DeSantos asked when he wandered into the kitchen for some peace and quiet.

“I am, thank you. You really outdid yourself with this dinner.” He poured himself another glass of the fruit punch.

“I always overcook when everyone is home. It doesn't happen so often anymore. They've all moved so far away, except you two,” she sighed wistfully, drying her hands on a dishrag and looking towards the living room. Rocky was bouncing Maria’s newborn on his shoulder, vainly hoping she’d sleep, while he attempted to read a book to Pedro’s twin three year old boys. They spent most of it hitting each other and trying to steal candy canes off the tree, but Rocky always managed to stop them. It was as if he had three hands and two sets of eyes. Adam wasn't sure how he did it.

“You’re a good boy, Adam.” He looked over and found Mrs. DeSantos smiling at him with that knowing look, as if she could see right into his very soul. “You take good care of my Rocky. He loves you. And you love him. He glows when you’re near. I could not have asked for a better first son-in-law.” She kissed him on both his cheeks and he blushed right to the roots of his hair.

“I don’t. I mean, it’s not. I don’t do anything special, I suppose.” She laughed, deep and hearty, and it made Adam want to make her laugh all the time.

“You do, mijo. You don’t realize it, but you do,” she winked at him knowingly and then handed him a tray of cookies. She led him back into the mess of a family room, bustling with people and presents everywhere.

“Take Ariana, would you, querido? Maybe get her somewhere quiet? She can’t take all this.” Rocky thrust the fussing baby at him and pushed them towards the back door. She was so tiny, not even two months old, black hair sticking up in all directions. It tickled his nose and he tried to shift her while he walked. She looked at him about as warily as he looked at her. She had quieted down at least, there in the solitude of the back yard.

“You’re not so sure about this whole Christmas thing yet, are you?” he asked. She blinked at him as if trying to get him into focus. He clearly was not a face type she was used to seeing. She gurgled at him uncertainly. Adam began bouncing her like he’d seen Rocky do earlier. “You and me both, kid. You and me both.” 

It was almost over. Just one more day, and it would all be over for another year.

 

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Adam crashed, exhausted, into the couch. It had been a long night. They hadn't left Rocky’s mother’s house until well after midnight. He was tired, but still too keyed up from dinner to sleep. Rocky bustled about but Adam couldn't muster the strength to lift his head and look. 

“Here,” Rocky said, shoving a mug in his face. Adam inhaled the scent of the hot chocolate first before taking a tentative sip. Steaming and thick, just the way he liked it. Rocky had lit the fireplace, pulled all the presents out, and made him hot chocolate, all without him even noticing.

Adam looked around. There were a pile of presents under the tree, half for him and half for Rocky. He would be sure to fill Rocky’s stocking before he went to sleep and he knew Rocky would have his filled before he woke up. The Christmas tree shined bright in the corner next to the fireplace and the fire cracked merrily. It was dark, otherwise, quiet and peaceful. Rocky was warm next to him and there was the slightest bit of chill in the air, about as cold as it ever got in California. It was still the wee hours of the night, but it was officially Christmas. 

“Merry Christmas, Rocky,” he mumbled. Rocky slid onto the couch next to him, cuddling up close, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Thank you. For all of this. I know it’s not your favourite time of year and I know you put up with a lot this month,” Rocky whispered. Adam smiled and snuggled in closer, burying his face in Rocky’s neck. 

“Worth it when it’s for you.”

“So… when’s Korean New Year?” Rocky sipped his hot chocolate as nonchalantly as possible. Adam blinked in confusion and leaned back far enough to meet Rocky’s eyes. He did the math in his head.

“February 1st this year,” he answered. “Why?” 

“So we can do this whirlwind big holiday thing all over again. I have to be ready.” Adam nearly dropped his mug in an attempt to kiss him. He couldn't have loved Rocky more than in that moment.

Christmas still wasn't his holiday. It never would be. That didn't matter anymore. Christmas belonged to Rocky and Adam would celebrate it every single year for the rest of his life if it meant he could spend it with Rocky.


End file.
